Confessions and Conversations (Confessions to single women and a private conversation with God)

In the last several months I am learning how to be single after being married for 7 1/2 years. Single women, especially with kids, I have the utmost respect for you. I am now walking in your shoes. My pain might be different then your pain, but I now understand the weight of making all decisions on your own. Always hoping you made the right choice. Even if I did think I was doing the right thing, I was always at complete peace when it was confirmed by my husband who I respected and loved. Its not only my husband that is no longer gone, but that peace I was given from his wisdom and discernment.

I now understand the nights of loneliness and how easy it is to fall into escaping your life with the TV, a Sci-Fi novel or Facebook. Spending your night writing honestly or in prayer before God will mean that everything in your life is real and bloody. I never had this much time before and as much as I don’t want it now, I do know its a gift and I feel guilty for not using it wisely.

I now understand what its like to feel that you don’t belong even in your own house. I understand how you accidentally pull away from all your friends who are still married, its just not the same anymore is it? And I understand how you don’t belong to any single gatherings unless you want to do more then just talk. There is lots of support but emotionally and mentally you just feel homeless.

There is a lot more I understand now and a lot more that God is teaching me. I am learning to walk in the dark and please don’t mistake this for a bad thing. In fact, I am able to listen clearer, notice more and judge less based on appearance when I am in the dark. Its scary but what better way to trust God completely then not being able to see whats in front of you.

So now, I’d like to share a conversation with you. One that I had with God a couple months ago. I wasn’t originally going to share this publicly, but I have come to realize that keeping it to myself would completely defeat the purpose of the conversation that I am about to share.

Me: Why can’t I sleep?
God: I believe you know why.
Me: Yes, perhaps I do.
God: I called your name, but you did not answer. Where were you?
Me: I . . . was distracted, watching a movie.
God: I see, and will this become a regular occurrence now?
Me: I don’t know, Sometimes it feels better then just the silence.
God: It’s numbing.
Me: Yes.
God: Is that why your distant?
Me: I don’t really know how to answer that.
God: You’ve been cheating on me.
Me: No . . . no its not the same. I just want to be in a different world, somewhere thats not my world.
God: to escape the pain and loneliness.
Me: Yes, I suppose . . . You took him away from me. You gave him to me and then you took him away!
God: I know you are saying this out of what you are feeling and not what you know, I am so sorry my love.
Me: You had the power to heal him and you choose not to.
God: My daughter, why is it now that you do not trust me?
Me: I trust you-
God: and yet you doubt my goodness.
Me: . . . forgive me, I know you are good.
God: Listen to me, and do not speak to quickly. You are trying to escape into something that is not real. And living an illusion, a lie. will only destroy you.
Me: Watching one movie is not going to destroy me.
God: Its not the movie, its the desire to escape your pain. A host of other things can do the very same thing- food, work, alcohol. Anything you want to do in order to block out the pain of being alone.
Me: I suppose I knew that, but it feels better to not think and be me, alone.
God: Then you have allowed yourself to be deceived.
Me: I guess so.
God: Tell me why?
Me: This is pointless, why must I answer you when you know? You understand better then I understand.
God: I know this is hard for you. It is not my intent to cause you pain but to clean your wounds. Please, answer the question.
Me: Sometimes an illusion is better then reality.
God: I could understand that if you were lost and you did not carry my very light inside of you. Please. . . open the eyes of your heart and ask me to take away what is covering that light and weighing you down.
Me: . . . fear? but what am I afraid of?
God: What are you trying to escape?
Me: From pain and sorrow and loneliness.
God: You are strong and you are not afraid of the pain itself. You are afraid that it will not end. You’re afraid it will knock you down and consume you.
Me: Yes, and it will if I allow it.
God: Allow it.
Me: What?
God: You have to trust me. You have to trust that I will take you out of it all when it is time. You cannot do this on your own, but if you want my help then you have to let me do it my way.
Me: This is insane! You want me to let the pain and sorrow consume me? You don’t want me to fight?
God: Lay your weapons down my love, keep your eyes on me and trust that I will deliver you.
Me: I don’t know how to not fight.
God: I will teach you. And in the end you will be complete.
Me: I don’t know if I can do this . . . what your asking is beyond what I can handle.
God: I know it is. Oh, and this is not a one time deal it is a decision you have to make day after day to not fight and surrender instead.
Me: Ok . . . this seems ridiculously impossible right now.
God: On your own, it is. I promise you, its worth it if you surrender to me, if you trust me. . . I love you, don’t stay away for to long.

* You have probably figured out how that ended, or began- depending on how you look at it. And now you have a little more context to explain my last post. Yes, the pain feels very consuming at times but how can we ever get rescued if we are never in trouble? And how can we ever be healed if we are never sick or broken? All of this, friends, is not a bad thing. Do not try and fight against the great pains and trials of this world. God, our lover and rescuer will give us joy out of our circumstances, a deeper love and understanding for others and a faith so unwavering that it can never fall.

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Alive in the rain


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The warm sun does wonders for your soul. My vacation to stay with my Uncle and Aunt in Maitland, Florida has been a beautiful change of scenery. The time has been slow, lazy, uneventful and nice. Gabby will usually wake up between 8 and 8:30, today it was a jaw dropping 10:30 when I looked at my phone. We had a quick breakfast of Dunkin Donut holes and frozen grapes, plus Mommy’s cup of dark coffee, always. It was off to the Maitland Park, a new world of God’s breathtaking creation. We ride a bike, together.  Gabby in a front toddler seat, her helmet leans against my chest. The morning bike ride has become routine on our vacation. I love how close we are when we are riding down the sidewalk, admiring the well manicured lawns and friendly neighbors waving as we ride by. The hot air clouds around us as we brake at the stop sign and then lifts with a breeze, tires spinning. I can’t help but smile and feel a little more alive.

When I took care of four kids I had two hours for myself as they visited with their mom. Then, bike rides were to “get away” and relax. Now, it feels like the most eventful thing in my life right now. Its when I feel most alive and free. Gabby feels it to. Picking up speed as we fly down the short hill to the park I hear, “Yee ay – ay!” She loves it and that ride has started to become such a routine in our morning that I am sure she will notice if it’s missed.

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A rusted red boardwalk comes into view winding through the wildness of Florida’s swampy forests. The sounds of the untamed wild carry on their daily chatter all around us. No longer am I a broken person, but a creature created by almighty God. I am in the midst of His wildness and it’s wonderful. The path into the park is from the crushed shells of the ocean. The sun illuminates the road traveled through palm trees and exotic shrubs. Shadows and light dance on our skin. I breathe deep, “Ahhh . . . This is good.” and I lift up a prayer of thanks, “Thank you Father, this is very good.”

I hear a distant groan of thunder and we start heading toward the exit. Two minutes later it begins to rain, the tennis players are gathering up their balls and water bottles, the mom’s call their kids from the playground and runners start picking up their pace. The wet drops begin to hit our skin, and my senses awaken. IMG_2284[1]The rain picks up and we are gliding down the boardwalk as we leave the park and enter a neighborhood leading us home. I forgot how much I love the rain, how much I love the feel of water splashing against my bare legs peddling us up the hill. The dark clouds split apart above and the rain came in heaping bucketfuls down on our faces. Gabby and I were soaked with the smell of fresh rain as we pulled the bike into the garage. She didn’t make a sound the whole way home. I unstrap her from her wet cushion seat and a smile beams across her face. She wraps her arms around me, not noticing how wet we both are. I knew she was brave, like all 14 month old babies, but resilient? I was beyond happy she enjoyed this as much as I did.  IMG_2287[1]

Speaking now to you friends who have been walking with me, I ask that you share in this even more. Pray for me as I adventure with Christ in murky waters. Pray that I will have a teachable and patient heart as I wade in the shallow dark sea longing for the sun and the waves to crash over me. Pray that I will not be stagnant and become overwhelmed by my circumstances. Pray I will not succumb to distractions and numbing pleasures in a world I am surrounded in but continue to wait in the silence. Continue to wait in the silence if that is what is required to be close to a God I cannot ignore. Pray that I will drink in the words of Christ in Matthew 11:28-30 so that I will not become dehydrated.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Daddy’s Eyes

Dear Gabby,

Do you remember your Daddy’s eyes?  His eyes showed you who he was, and who you were to him. If you can’t remember I will tell you about them as best I can. When your Daddy looked at you, love and adoration was spoken into your heart. When you first started to smile it was because of an uninhibited reaction by your Daddy’s look of unrelenting love that radiated from his eyes. Image

When his eyes looked at you it was his very spirit gleaming out from underneath his eyelids. To a stranger, they might have seemed ordinary and of no significance, but your Daddy’s eyes were powerful. His eyes had the power to comfort and to heal. His eyes inspired perseverance and they demanded respect. No one knew that better then me, and probably most of his students.   IMG_1517

His eyes burned his competitive spirit when he raced around your Uncle Matt to throw ball for a lay up in the hoop above. They revealed his vast knowledge and understanding in our conversations at night, time alone with a book or his classroom, in front of 30 pliable minds. And they shown forth great integrity and truth throughout his entire life road. Never once can I recall I time when a lie protruded from his lips or deceit hid behind his eyes.275-IMG_2214

Your Daddy had eyes that a person can not forget. They had a way of looking into who you really are, it was impossible to not be affected. Those eyes are what I miss most. In the end moments when your Daddy would soon be with Jesus, his eyes radiated acceptance, peace and joy. While his body was weak, his eyes were alive and strong and focused.

I still see those eyes in my dreams, they exhibited his spirit which can never be tamed or forgotten. Like a brightly burning flame, his eyes showed forth the true light, the very light of God. And that cannot be snuffed out.

Love,

Mommy

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Life in the Woods

Dear Gabby,

 

This morning, as you were napping soundly with your little gray bunny, I stepped out into the sunshine.  Its light was streaming down to the deck outback of your Grammy and Grandpy’s house. I stood there very still. There was so much life happening around me, and I felt that after a season of hiding indoors, I was the alien. There were Robins calling back and forth to each other across the wood, a woodpecker’s lunch preparation echoed loud, the Looking Glass River, only about 50 yards away, moved with a sweeping force over rocks and toppled trees.

I walked down closer to the river. I am drawn in like all the trees that bow to the life-giving source. Dead leaves crackle and crumple beneath me, and new stems grow up beside me. The light shines through the wooden giants creating beautiful long shadows throughout the area. My thought was to come out here and think. And I did but it was not in the way that I thought. I was distracted by so much life. In the cold months it is still and peaceful. There is no life. It is dead. And then spring comes, awakening new life. The life was not ever dead, it was hibernating, waiting, on hold for the sun and the warmth to break through. But this life is never the same, it is renewed after every stilled winter.

I sat for a long time out there, hoping that all this new life would rub off on me. I observed the sparkling river flowing at a continual pace through the forest. It had carved its own way. Close in front of me as I meandered through the wood, was a stagnant pond that had collected in a pocket of earth. Its murky waters were still and content. It had made its home and made no attempt of moving. Both made of the same element and they are so different. I am drawn to the river. It gives and brings forth life by its continual persistent force. It’s wild and dangerous and cuts through the earth. I am repelled by the stagnant pond. For even though it seems to give life, it brings disease and death often results.

I don’t know what the future will look like for us, I have so many questions I ask myself every day. I try and ask God my questions and allow him to answer them in His own time so I am not prone to worry. The life He has already created helps to answer some of those questions. When you are older and you have questions, I would say to try and sit and listen and observe of what God has already made. Knowing that He made everything skillfully, creatively and with unquestionable love we are left with ears and eyes open and our mouths shut.

Since you were sleeping, I took some pictures for you of what I saw as I was thinking of all of this. I love you princess!

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I had to add this picture too. This was you later that day on your new princess bike. I don’t know what you were laughing at but you though it was really funny.

New Life from Dry Bones.

Easter for me is all wrapped up in tradition. Not tradition from my side of the family, tradition from Chris’s side of the family. There were some traditions that we held this year, but it took great effort, like Grandma baking her “to die for” rolls. Motivation in keeping the traditions alive was dead. There was no fire this year and frankly I think we all thought, “What’s the point?” and “It’s not the same.” Chris was the one who felt so strongly about tradition and fought for it. Now, can we really keep the same traditions? Should we, in order to keep it alive, to keep the memories alive? Today, as I was with family, it was like we all just got through.

One think I do know, is that my focus was not on family and traditions this year. This year was quite different. In my remembrance and sorrow of not having Chris here, I clung to the wonderful weight of the Spirit living inside of me. I wept with joy over the story of Jesus raising to life the widow’s son because of His great love and compassion for her. (Luke 7: 11-15) And all of my thoughts keep coming back to how utterly lost I would be without Him. This easter was very different then it ever was before. I was not as busy, distracted, self dependent, and put together. It brought me to my knees realizing the incredible gift that was given to me. Without His sacrifice I would be blinded with darkness and despair. There would be no hope, there would be no life.

But He has created NEW LIFE, by rising from the dead and bring us out of the grave. His gift was new life, because of His great love for us. (Ephesians 2:4-5) Its hard to even put into words. I am overwhelmed by the whole thing and end up in silence because I have no words. The gratitude in my heart is overflowing, and its because of my dependance, my entire identity in Him. He is the one, and only one who has saved me, and He is constantly creating me into something new.

 

 

my soul cries out
my soul cries out for you

these bones cry out
these dry bones cry for you
to live and move
only You
can raise the dead
lift my head up

Jesus, You’re the one who saves us
Constantly creates us into something new
Jesus You’re the one who finds us
Surely our Messiah will make all things new

A birthday and a hope.

Dear Gabby,

DSC_0025-2Happy Birthday my big one year old! Wow, what a day! Did you realize that 38 people came to celebrate your life today? Did you also realize that all of your friends, “brothers” and “sisters” (the kids) outnumbered the mommy’s and daddy’s? Just so that you are aware, we are not doing this every year. You will not  have your own memory of this day, so I am going to do my best in giving you some of my favorite highlights.

 

I was holding you as the majority of people came through the door and as a mommy’s girl you were not quite ready to be passed to another person’s arms, but I know a trick. You love to walk, and although you can’t quite do it on your own yet, its a great way to warm up to someone (someone being everyone who isn’t mom) by holding their hard and showing off your developing agility and gusto. Your tiny feet pitter patter along the hardwood floor and your face lights up along with whoever is holding your hand at your joyous ability. It works every time.

All the kids were your favorite, and it was a favorite of everyones to see you enjoy them. A kiss from Charlotte and giving back one in return would produce three room full’s of “Aww!”

 

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You love sugar! You would have eaten that entire cake if I would have let you. Your baby hands were covered in vibrant pink icing and your face became all of a sudden a very rosy glow. Cameras were going off left and right, and we never got bored of watching your inquisitive and comical expressions as you discovered a new love for sweets. I jumped into your messiness and allowed you to give me a big kiss.We together enjoyed the same taste of the sugary deliciousness of cotton candy. (The icing was cotton candy flavored)

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You were much more involved with opening presents then you were at Christmas. You grabbed that paper at the top and ripped it all the way down to the bottom, the only problem was that you had several helpers who also liked to open presents. Knowing you were not quite as fast, they volunteered to “help” you. Your helpers were Selah, Nevaeh, Lorenzo and Regan. And you, being the kid lover that you are, had no problem with it whatsoever. In fact, having your friends help you open your gifts was the same as playing together and for you it couldn’t get any better. Just remember that when your older.

 

IMG_0386Wrapping paper, bags, clothes, ribbon, toys and people gathered all around. You had just started pulling the tissue paper out of the small gift bag resting in between your legs when Lorenzo, who was sitting next to you, reached out for a toy that was being touched by a toddler. He declared, “Don’t touch that toy, thats DSC_0054my sister’s!” (Lorenzo is my crazy 5 year old who I had the privilege to be a mom to for a year and a half. He is now back home with his real mom along with the rest of his brothers and sisters. This amazing moment shows the closeness of our forever foster family.)

The last memory I will leave you with is the result of eating too much cake. I’m sure your tastebuds were singing for joy at 3:00 but your tummy was pounding its fists on the floor at 5:00. Your grunts and groanings lasted until you fell asleep on your Mommy. I love cuddling with you, so you just slept as I continued to talk with friends. Poor Sadie who was sitting next to me, for by that time, you were only asleep because the mess was in the diaper. But today was a special day and that indulgence was worth it.  Which is why I gave away all your cupcakes for people to take home, it’s only worth it because it was special and out of the ordinary. We can’t do that every day.

The rain came as everyone was leaving. The rain came as wet drops on the grass and pavement outside, and the rain came as a dead and quiet fog inside a big house. It came as it seeped into the loneliness of a widow’s heart. This day was very special, which is why your Mommy cried listening to the patter of rain on the windows.  Your Daddy was not here to smile at me while you were zonked out on my chest. He wasn’t here to push you around on your pink flashy princess car from your Uncle Matt. He wasn’t here to pick you up and help you dunk your ball in the Easy Score Basketball Hoop he specifically picked out for you. He wasn’t here. A heartsick and despondent tune played strong in the wind.  It tangled my hair into knots. DSC_0147The celebration of your one year of life was over and he missed it. Then a blow of consciousness slashes at my heart as I realize He is going to miss everything. There will be many of your special days and there will be no Daddy. And all I can say after the celebration is, I’m so sorry sweetheart.

And as much as I would love to promise you that I will always be there to watch you blow out your candles, I can’t. Life is precious and uncertain and a gift. So, my dearest daughter, you will have to let God be your Daddy. My hope and prayer for you is that through the pain and loss of your Daddy, your relationship with God will become one of complete dependence and love like you have never known before. I also pray that you will trust and feel deep within you the immense love that God has for you. And don’t believe it because I said it, God said it to you. “See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are! . . . 1 John 3:1″ So when you are sad, let God be your comfort and let him love on you. He might take away your pain and He might not. Don’t be angry if He doesn’t take away the pain, for it’s through your pain God is able to be so close to you. He is getting me through, and he will get you through as well. 

 

 

 

 

Dance in the Downpour

Dear Gabby,

Today as you were busy giving sloppy open mouth kisses to your adoring grandparents, your Uncle Dan and I spent our day listening with our ears and digesting with our hearts a host of information, wisdom, and advice from writers who have already gone ahead of us. I am listening to these writers because I want to learn how to write my story and your Daddy’s story so it will not be lost, and that it can be a part of your story.

I’m sorry to say that what I discovered about writing today is very much like that first tooth in your mouth that is still stubbornly hiding behind your gummy smile. It’s there, but it can be quite a process of pain and it is very uncomfortable. And of course to help relieve your pain, you chew on coffee tables, people’s fingers and Mommy’s I Phone cord. It’s taken me a while to realize this, but you are teaching me to work through the pain of my writing instead of screaming about it. And I can only work through it by involving others into my story. Granted sometimes chewing on fingers is easier then chewing on people’s heartstrings. A physical reaction of pain is easier to see from a friend then an emotional reaction to pain, especially the pain in my own life.

I realized today that I have a lot of work and a lot of writing ahead of me. I love writing. I love writing about you and your Daddy and the small drop of knowledge I have of God in the vast ocean of who He is. I will always love to write, but I have to decide if I should still write on the nights when I am sad and lonely, or the nights when I am tired, or the nights when I am lazy. On those nights when you’re dreaming of that first taste of Mommy’s Reese Pieces with your new and long awaited teeth, I will be laying in bed wondering if writing with that much passion, vulnerability and work is really worth it? (I have to admit, it’s very hard to resist those cute beanie boo eyes of yours. Inching closer to me in such anticipation almost transforms me into this programmed robotic mom who would give you anything you wanted.)

So Peanut, if you see me this week sitting down at my computer, but produce a look of confusion, discouragement and anxiety, you will know that your Mommy answered her question. She answered herself; yes, it is worth the “hard” to share the story. It is worth the nakedness to have the open, unfiltered community. It is worth the risk of failure for the chance to love and to live as I have always been called by Christ.

One day, my daughter, you will have many adventures. You will have places that you want to go and things that you want to do. And the best things are when you get to play in the mud and rain and get dirty. Its easy to live in a partly cloudy, predictable and pleasant climate, but where’s the fun in that? Not just the fun but where is the joy, where is the wonder in predictable? I might regret saying this, but I give you permission to live and get messy. I want you to feel the wet and residual clumps of mud between your sinking toes into the earth below, I want you to see the masterpiece of beauty when you create your first finger painting, I want you to hear the cry of other kids who are hurting, I want you to smell the rain in the middle of a downpour, and I want you to speak the truth to your friends through fear and rejection and self-consciousness.

Things are very unpredictable right now and your Mommy feels like she is caught in a downpour. Many adults that I know do not like to get caught in a downpour of rain. Once you start caring about what you look like, you probably wont like it either. But your Mommy is learning to appreciate the downpour, like a child.  In the downpour you can play and dance and feel a freedom that is unlike any other feeling in the world. You just have to get past the heavy clothes which cling to your body, the standing water in your shoes announcing to everyone you’re presence by a “squish” and it reveals your appearance to others; disheveled, imperfect and messy. Is it worth it? Gabby, do you think it’s worth it for Mommy to dance in the downpour?